


Feeling

by TheWorkoftheHeart



Category: One Piece
Genre: Can We Change That Tag Now?, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, Mentioned violence, Sanji Isn't a Vinsmoke, Stabbing, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24053104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWorkoftheHeart/pseuds/TheWorkoftheHeart
Summary: At that same moment, feeling took back to some of his body, and Zoro could feel a hand intertwining his.
Relationships: Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji
Comments: 6
Kudos: 110





	Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> forgive me if this makes zero sense i didn't proofread, i wrote fuckin train-of-thought, and it's 3:30 in the morning

Zoro couldn’t tell you the moment he was stabbed, the moment he felt the blade cross through his back up to the hilt and slide back out with ease as though it had never been there. He could hardly remember what it felt like to fall, knees trembling under dead weight as he immediately went to cover the front of the wound with his hand, the one thing he could reach; black swirled around the edge of his vision and he was down instantly, face pressing into the dirt with an uncomfortable roughness.

Black was still on the cusp of his vision when his eyes first opened. There was no red-black sky, but an amber light on a wooden interior; there were many gazes on them, he could feel it, the way their sharp stares burned holes in sore skin. Words were but muffled whispers as he slipped away again, returning to a similar scene after only God knows how long. The room was less crowded, but there were still eyes on him. His body was so sore that he could feel no pain, only the pull of a stitch here, a pressure in his hand there. Words were still foggy, unrecognizable voices sliding and melding with ones he could point out from miles away. 

Another slip, another return. As he emerged from the darkness this time, the haze in his vision was gone. His ears rang sharp as he tried to push himself up on his elbows, but before whoever was with him could even move to push him down, his arms wobbled and fumbled under him, making him slump back into his resting position.

“Easy, easy,” comes a voice, and it’s instantly apparent that it’s Chopper. A smile tugs at the edges of sore lips- he was with his crew. “You have stitches, you need to lay down.”

“Alright, alright.” Zoro strains himself to turn his neck, see if anyone else was in the room with the two of them. At that same moment, feeling took back to some of his body, and Zoro could feel a hand intertwining his. He’d memorized how that hand felt years ago, the calloused fingertips and palm, how the thumb rested on the top of his finger and not the crook of his hand. For maybe the first time in his life, the name Sanji left his lips in a whisper, and it was such a tender sound that he immediately felt heartbroken that he wasn’t awake to hear it.

Chopper didn’t comment on the name, but he hummed in affirmation. “He refused to leave your side,” he responded, “he felt bad for not taking the guy down in time.”

It was more than that, so much more, and Zoro knew it. He closed his eyes, finally letting that smile show itself.

“Idiot cook. At least he’s getting rest.”

“There’s at least that.”

Silence resumed, and Zoro didn’t mind. He just focused on the swaying of the boat and the feeling of Sanji’s hand as black cornered his vision again, rest consuming him once again.


End file.
